Kiss-Kiss, Hi-Hi
by Summer Reign
Summary: It's Wedding Day Eve (again), and Sara either has cold feet or a sour stomach. But, not for the usual reasons.


Title: Kiss-Kiss… Hi, Hi

Author: Summer Reign

Rating; T

Summary: It's wedding day eve, for Grissom and Sara's second go-round. But, Sara's the one with cold feet…or a sour stomach. You decide.

A/N: This is in response to a fanfic challenge. At least 5 titles have to be used, in a natural sort of way, in this piece.

* * *

 **9PM**

 _ **Sara**_

Sara Sidle was beginning to feel the acid rise from her stomach. Next, the queasiness would arrive, followed by a burning sensation in her chest.

Or, maybe not. But, the thought actually made her feel better. At this point, a nauseating, burning, acidy experience seemed like a more pleasant option than thinking about tomorrow's formalities.

Ironic. You can dream the impossible for years and, when it's finally close to becoming reality (again), you can't tamp down the agita.

Or the dread.

No, she was not looking forward to this second wedding ceremony.

Not at all. 

_**Morgan**_

Sephora was still open! How she loved a small (or large) shopping spree at her favorite makeup emporium! Especially since Catherine had come up with the bright idea of surprising Sara with a complete wedding makeover!

 _This_ was going to be epic.

The thing is, Sara was pretty. Beautiful, even. But, she didn't seem to know exactly what to do with that side of her; how to maximize her assets.

And yet, guys…seemed to really, really like her. Even her very own Greggo. He sort of begrudgingly admitted he had had a crush on Sara—although as he told the story, it was very long ago and it faded away…long ago. So, she wasn't jealous or anything. Plus, it was hard to be jealous over a woman who was sooooo hung up on one man.

Frankly, she really didn't understand what Sara saw in Grissom. Maybe Morgan had just been tainted by her father's opinion of the man. They were rivals, for the longest time. And she could see why. People were so in awe of the guy. "Grissom, this" and "Grissom, that." Like God, Himself, had walked in the room.

And, when she first saw the incredible Grissom, he was just some scrounge-y fisherman who kinda walked like he'd been riding a horse too long.

But, Sara loved him and even though she had chances…Lord knows, she, herself, and Fin (may she rest in peace) had tried to get Sara out of the house and into the Meet Market…she never even gave those fine looking, (in her opinion) more age-appropriate guys a second glance.

Of course, the one dude she did look at (or more…who knows?) ended up dead so that may have made Sara gun-shy but still…

Grissom? Eh, to each her own.

Ooh…mascara! This brand was new. "Guaranteed to plump your lashes up to 200 times their normal size." Yeah, that's the ticket. That, coupled with maybe a modest set of false eyelashes would make Sara's eyes pop under her veil tomorrow.

Score!

XXXXX 

**10:30 PM**

 _ **Sara**_

She walked around their house. The place was way too quiet.

Gil, damn him, was sound asleep. Fell asleep watching the game on TV. After a last go-round of "bachelor sex."

And, why not, it's not like he was nervous about getting remarried in front of their work buddies, pals, besties...a/k/a the only people (alive, that is) that they had contact with over the past few decades.

She walked over to her dress. Cream colored. No lace. No veil.

Wasn't her first rodeo…no need to play the blushing bride.

And, yet, that's kind of what she wanted.

She wanted that feeling of renewal. Of everything being fresh and life starting over, yet again. Full of promises and hope.

But, how could they possibly have that with an audience? How could they possibly zone them out?

Sara plopped herself down on the couch and put her head in her hands.

It was her fault. Her idea. Let's _invite the gang since they weren't around for our first wedding._

Stupid, stupid idea.

And, now, she'd have to live with it.

Walk down the aisle, speak words they really only wanted to say to each other…hear a semi-muffled snicker as they kissed to seal the deal. And then, that back of the church deal.

Ugh.

She got up and went to the kitchen.

There had to be some Alka-seltzer in the house. 

_**Ecklie**_

Honestly, he didn't understand what Grissom saw in her.

Well, okay. Yes, he did. A beautiful, younger woman. But, Grissom had had a golden opportunity—more than one-really- to bag someone else who was young-ish…younger than Grissom, anyway, and mysterious to boot.

Plus, there was the added bonus of her being a virtual encyclopedia of sexual knowledge. Who knew what treasures were in Lady Heather's Box of Sexual Secrets.

But, of course, Heather was trouble. Everyone (except Grissom) seemed to know that. Still, so was Sidle, so…apples, oranges…apples with an attitude…oranges with unlimited sexual prowess…

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Conrad," Ecklie told himself, as he laid out the formal suit he'd wear to the wedding tomorrow.

Sara turned out to be a good CSI, after all. But, he'd be lying if he said he had been happy about her promotion. For that, he had to be grateful to Gil for the rest of his life. Sara—with real power—would have been a thorn in his side for years to come.

Gil Grissom…always the winner. Even if he made an odd choice, he had two women to choose from. Lucky dog.

Well…Ecklie smiled a smile he hadn't felt like using in years…Gil Grissom _would_ have to live with Sara Sidle for the rest of his life…

Finally, Justice is served.

XX :=)

 **11:50 PM**

 _ **Sara**_

And what, she thought, was the deal with the continental kisses?

Sara groaned and rested her head on her folded arms. She had been sitting by her desk for an hour, trying to start a to-do list for tomorrow. But, nothing came to her except these random Seinfeld-esque thoughts.

What was it about post wedding greetings that made people who were knee-deep in entrails with you just a few days before, act like they were French and meeting you for the first time?

Kiss on one cheek.

Kiss on the other.

"Hi,"—relatively normal voice.

"Hi," -an octave higher with just a tinge of surprise, as if they were somehow surprised you were attending your own nuptials.

Of course, none of that happened during her first wedding. Mostly because her it was held at the Office of the Justice of the Peace: just Sara, Gil and a couple of random strangers as witnesses.

Tomorrow—she glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall—no, _today,_ would be very different.

Bright idea, Sidle. 

_**Greg**_

To be completely honest, Greg didn't really want to attend this wedding.

He had given up on the idea of him and Sara Sidle…in that way…a long, long time ago. Still, that didn't mean he didn't have some residual…something for her (and he definitely wouldn't be mentioning THAT to Morgan anytime soon).

She was his first adult crush. Youth helped him believe that she would fall for him. Even when he was a doofus. Well, youth and the fact that Sara never made him think he truly WAS a doofus-which is probably why he loved her so much.

She was different than all the rest. Loved deeply and faithfully. Just…not him. Not in that way.

Faithful. Maybe that's why he never even thought of making a play for her after her divorce. Because he knew Grissom and Sara weren't over.

Still, he didn't want to see that whole "to love and to cherish," stuff in person. Yes, he was with Morgan, and yes, they were a couple, but a man never forgets his first love and…today was going to be a really tough day. 

_**Hodges**_

This wedding would break his heart. He just knew it. Really, he should be committed for accepting the invitation.

Ah, well. He was born to be stoic. That's all there was to it. Even though he knew his mentor and friend, Gil Grissom, was (repeating!) his mistake, Hodges had to gird his loins and let him go down that path again.

It was the right thing to do.

Besides, Grissom wouldn't listen to him anyway.

He had always been enchanted by that vixen, Sara.

As a man, he could understand it. He had almost been affected by her womanly charms once or twice himself. But, as an intellectual…he had come to respect his role in life: a lone wolf; a scientific Desperado, of sorts.

Sure, there had been women in his life….Elisabeta…his darling Elisabeta. Who would ever think that such a creature would come his way? And, then, when that didn't quite work out, another lovely creature appeared. One that seemed to be his destiny.

But, alas, it was not to be.

His "Sara," …Morgan…was young and brilliant. And entered his life just about the same time in life as Sara had appeared in Grissom's. Surely, that karmic-ly meant something?

But, she succumbed to that annoying weasel, Greg. Who had, in fact, originally been after Sara himself.

Hodges shook his head. The lab was a virtual Peyton Place (his Mom's favorite show when he was knee-high to a grasshopper).

But, did he wallow in his misery? Well, maybe just a bit, but then he realized it was all part of the Grand Scheme. He may have been the Student, but perhaps—he, Hodges, himself—was to become the real Master, choosing Science over love.

He smirked and felt superior.

And then realized, he still didn't want to go to this wedding.

Somehow, it would diminish his view of Grissom.

And he'd feel an uncomfortable jealousy toward the newly-wed Grissoms that was inexplicable … even to him. 

XXXXX 

**1 AM**

 _ **Sara**_

She just couldn't take it anymore. She had made a mistake: a big one. And she had to make it right, right now—or it would be too late.

She poked him in the back.

"Gil," she urgently whispered in his ear. "Wake up!"

"Round two?" he murmured into his pillow, before resuming his gentle snoring.

"Gil!"

He shot up quickly, completely disoriented.

"What? Is the house on fire?"

"No. I need to talk to you."

"Can't it wait a few hours? Our last time as single people wore me out."

"No, it can't wait. Please. I…just can't go through with it."

He looked puzzled. Then, realization dawned.

"You can't?"

"I'm sorry."

He just looked at her, completely at a loss for words.

XXXXX 

**3 AM**

 _ **Catherine**_

Catherine had to get some sleep sometime. She'd need a tub of concealer tomorrow, if she didn't.

Imagine that. A Grissom-Sidle wedding. Who'd have thunk it?

Not Catherine. Oh, she knew Sara was all moony over him and he was…well, he had a soft spot for her, but it could have knocked them all down flat when this secret affair was revealed.

Fishing off the company pier, indeed. And landing the Great White Whale.

And, then, letting him go. That was something that really threw them all for a loop. But, Catherine didn't play with fire. She knew which subjects were sore and never to be discussed.

Besides, this time, she was pretty sure…they'd get it right. They seemed to be two miserable creatures when they got divorced. And, she could sympathize, on that count. Her relationship with Eddie…well, never mind.

This wedding was going to be a hoot. She couldn't picture two more awkward souls. She grabbed her evening bag and put her phone in, a small camera-in case the camera on the phone malfunctioned- and all the makeup she could fit into the small, but stylish space.

She walked over to the computer to look up her Instagram password. It had been a while. The reception, not surprisingly, was going to be tiny. But, that didn't mean those who weren't invited still couldn't have the pleasure of seeing their sometimes grumpy ex-boss marry his main squeeze, who may also have been their fly-by ex-boss herself.

Email was open. Oh…a message from Sara….

She opened it and read it quickly.

Well…shit.

XXXXX 

**6 AM**

 _ **Brass**_

Brass threw his alarm clock off the night table. He had to get up. He knew that. He just didn't want to. The suit he dragged out for the wedding actually was found, after an exhaustive search, on the bottom of his closet. And it needed professional pressing.

Damn it. Who would ever imagine they'd have a semi-formal wedding reception? Grissom and Sara…not exactly fashion icons. Ah, well. It was their show. They were just the trained monkeys. In formal wear.

He needed to stop the bitching and step up to the plate. But, first, he had to check his email. See if his boss, the Lovely Lady Catherine, had some orders she needed to bark at him. Uh…gently deliver.

He smirked.

Oh…a message from Sara.

Two minutes later, he made his way back to his closet and threw the suit back on the floor, where it belonged. Then, turned and made his way back to bed. 

**XXXXXX**

 **6:30 AM**

"Through this way," the elderly priest said, bustling them through the still dark corridors in the old Catholic Church. It was surprisingly cool and smelled, faintly, of candle wax and incense.

He opened the door and led them outside to a small, very green garden and what wasn't green was—well, every color under the sun. She couldn't even see all of them since the day had barely begun and the buds were not all open and in full splendor. But, it was still lovely and peaceful.

A little slice of fertile, breathing life in this desert town.

"You sure you want to do this here?" Grissom asked, once again.

She nodded, without hesitation.

Sara wasn't sure she was quite as much of a non-believer as she once claimed to be. After all, even amidst the horrors she had witnessed, she also experienced things that seemed nothing short of miraculous. So, while she certainly wasn't about to join the Catholic Church, she knew that it still meant something to Grissom.

So, it meant something to her, too.

Besides, he had "connections" in the Church that allowed them to skip the pre-Cana classes and just get married. And since they didn't marry in the Church last time—this time, it seemed, somehow, fresh and brand spanking new. And blessed.

Sara liked that idea. Last time, it was more or less a matter of getting the deed done, once they reunited. This time, they took their time. Well, not an overly long amount-but enough. When it actually felt stupid NOT to get married again, they started planning. And, it was Sara's idea (a good one, not like the one with the audience in attendance) to go the more traditional route. To have a full ceremony. To feel like something…wonderful… just took place. A change—a true sealing of the deal.

In the end, there were no personal vows to be embarrassed about. They went traditional there, too—because, well, other words seemed to fail them.

 _To_ _have and to hold from this day forward…_

Pretty nice stuff.

Although, if she would have gone the "write your own" route…hers would be something like…

 _We've known each other so long. You make me feel 20 years younger and 20 years older at the same time._

 _I know you better than I know myself and, yet, I don't know you at all._

 _But each morning, when our eyes greet each other on the dawn of a brand new day, there is a love that always was and always will be. And that's something that I now, fully embrace, as we begin again._

Smarmy…yes. But so completely true.

Yeah, the "gang" would have loved that.

She thought of the email she sent that morning:

 _Rescheduled our wedding. Don't hate us. It will be a done deal by the time you get to the restaurant. We love you but some things are best kept private. Good news, though: reception is still on! Hope to see you there….really._

They probably were so pissed.

But, it was hard to care overly much.

Not when Father Williams gave them their blessing and Grissom just stared at her for a moment. Almost as if he was seeing her for the first time.

He leaned forward and softly kissed one cheek, then the other.

An unspoken "we'll get it right this time" was in their eyes as their lips met the first time as Mr. and Mrs. Grissom, Round Two. 

XXXXX 

_**Later that evening**_

Sara changed into a red dress…mostly because Grissom just loved her in red. And he agreed—very reluctantly—to keep a suit on. Although, he scrapped the tie as soon as humanly possible.

They were greeted by a table of pseudo-angry friends.

Who didn't stay angry that long.

Morgan got to keep the makeup she bought for herself.

Ecklie got rid of Sara… for good, this time.

Greg and Hodges didn't have to witness their crushes pledge eternal love to anyone.

And Brass didn't have to spend money on pressing his suit—or even wearing one.

Only Catherine seemed ticked.

"Okay, okay. I'll forgive you if you tell me one thing…what were the vows like? Churchy, Shakespearean or Grissomian?"

Sara looked at Grissom and he looked back at her and slowly smiled.

"We said…hi," he simply stated.

Sara leaned her head against his shoulder for a moment.

Who said they didn't communicate well? 

The end.


End file.
